


complementary

by emblems



Series: SASO2016 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Character Study, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sparring, oikawa kicks tobio's butt in the kwoon room it's a lot of fun, saso2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emblems/pseuds/emblems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the following prompt over at SASO2016:</p><blockquote>
  <p>Envelope: manila, 9''x12'', filled with papers<br/>From: Pan Pacific Defense Corps<br/>To: Oikawa Tooru<br/>Note: A new partner has been assigned to you - Report to the Kwoon Combat Room for compatibility testing.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	complementary

When he reports to the kwoon combat room, Kageyama Tobio is already there. Marshal Nekomata stands at the edge of the room, ready to observe; Kiyoko stands next to him, clipboard in hand.   
  
Kageyama stands stiff as a board at one edge of the practice mats.   
  
There's a low buzz in the air; Oikawa eyes the crowd that’s gathered around the edge of the room, composed largely of his fellow pilots.   
  
Some, like Kuroo, are curious; others are looking for a show, smirking like Terushima; others, still, hide concern behind tight lips and knit brows (Oikawa doesn’t quite hold Suga’s gaze).  
  
And others, like Ushijima, are utterly impassive.  
  
They’ll all be a distraction—Oikawa can see the weight of the crowd’s gaze weighing heavy on Kageyama’s shoulders.   
  
“I don’t want an audience,” he says, holding Nekomata’s gaze steadily.   
  
Nekomata lifts one brow, but nods. The group takes it as what it is: an order to clear the room.   
  
Once they’re alone, Nekomata asks, “I trust you reviewed the documents Kiyoko gave you?”  
  
Oikawa shrugs. “I read over some, sure.”  
  
He looked at everything, but he doesn't want Kageyama thinking too hard on that. Kageyama walked in knowing only a name and maybe a reputation; Oikawa got an entire dossier.   
  
It’s not an insignificant advantage.  
  
“Take your weapons, then,” Nekomata says.  
  
They eye each other warily as they head over to the wall that bears everything from a rapier to a whip.   
  
Dozens of weapons laid out for them, and yet—they reach for the same staff, hands meeting in the middle.   
  
Oikawa pulls back and gestures. “After you,” he says with a saccharine smile.   
  
Kageyama narrows his eyes but does as instructed. Oikawa takes the staff next to it and heads to the opposite side of the room.   
  
Oikawa casts his mind back to the file he read over in his room.  
  
Test scores—starting in the realm of abysmal before spiking up to numbers that slightly resembled passing.  
  
Detailed observations and reports from combat training— _“possesses a high degree of focus but often forgets that the objective is not to win, but to seek compatibility with his sparring partner.”_  
  
PET scans, fMRI results, EEG readouts—they show a level of neural activity beyond anything Oikawa has seen before, synapses firing and connecting at an unprecedented rate when presented with different problem scenarios.  
  
And simulator results—likely what makes him such an object of interest for the Defense Corps. With an AI copilot, he has one of the highest kill counts Oikawa has ever seen (he knows of one or two others with a higher drop-kill ratio). He's a downright prodigy, taking to the Pons system as if it were an extension of his brain.  
  
With an actual copilot?  
  
He falls apart. His ability to drift with his partner is unexceptional at best, utterly dismal at worst. Drift compatibility derived from psychological assessments or kwoon combat room sessions means nothing when it comes to Kageyama Tobio, no matter who he works with. Usually it’s a problem ironed out in the beginning of training, but apparently not for Kageyama.   
  
That he graduated at all would be a wonder, if it weren’t for the fact that Oikawa is the one being considered as his partner.  
  
_“Why me?” Oikawa asks when the envelope is handed to him._  
  
Kiyoko glances up from her clipboard for only a second. “You’ll understand when you go through his file.” There’s a pause before she continues, “I know you miss him,” she says, meeting his eyes. “But we need you in the field. And we need Kageyama Tobio in the field, too.”   
  
After reviewing everything, he understands why—why they let him graduate, and why Oikawa. One look at his file was all he needed to understand that.  
  
It doesn’t mean he has to like it.   
  
Oikawa smiles just enough to set Kageyama on edge. “You ready—Tobio- _chan_?”  
  
The corner of Kageyama's mouth twitches.   
  
It’s something most people wouldn’t notice. Oikawa isn’t most people.  
  
“Whatever you’re feeling,” he says, pointing his staff at Kageyama, “get rid of it. Clear your mind and focus.”  
  
Kageyama grips his staff with both hands and sinks into a crouch. “I know what to do.”  
  
Oikawa smiles. “Then show me.”   
  
Kiyoko blows her whistle.   
  
Oikawa moves first, uninterested in dealing with a half-baked 'take-him-by-surprise’ strategy.   
  
In training, Oikawa spent much of his time watching his batchmates, taking in their strengths and weaknesses, not only picking out areas to exploit, but also searching for points of compatibility. He doesn’t have any time spent observing Kageyama in action; the best and only way to get practical data is by doing.   
  
Kageyama manages to block Oikawa’s downward stroke just in time, and his eyes widen just a little in surprise. Oikawa does a split-second onceover, taking in Kageyama’s stance, and finds his opening.  
  
He takes a step back, blocking Kageyama’s attempt to pursue (thinking he might be able to get the upper hand—a smart move rather than just waiting for your partner to move in) before sweeping his staff low to the ground.  
  
Oikawa pokes his staff directly against Kageyama’s throat. “One-zero,” he says. He goes to resume position at the far end of the mats.  
  
Kageyama props himself up on his elbows, eyes narrowed at Oikawa.   
  
Oikawa arches a brow. “If you came in here expecting me to go easy on you, you’re going to be disappointed.”  
  
In a feat Oikawa didn’t think was possible, Kageyama’s scowl deepens. “I didn’t think that.”  
  
“No? Then maybe you expected me to be too impressed with your record to be at my best?”  
  
Kageyama resumes position, holding his staff at the ready.   
  
Kiyoko blows the whistle.  
  
This time, Kageyama is more than ready for him. He blocks Oikawa easily before moving into a quick series of strikes, all heading for Oikawa’s ribs. The sound of bo striking bo fills the room as Kageyama pushes Oikawa back. It’s only after the fourth strike that he realizes what Kageyama is planning.  
  
By then it’s too late, and Kageyama finishes not with a side-swipe but a thrust aimed directly at Oikawa’s throat.  
  
It's in this moment Oikawa most keenly feels the fact that Kageyama is fresh out of training.  
  
“One-one,” Kageyama says, chest heaving. Oikawa can see satisfaction glinting in Kageyama’s eyes.  
  
Oikawa goes to his water bottle before resuming position, and Kageyama takes the opportunity to pick up their conversation.  
  
“My record isn’t impressive,” Kageyama says after a moment. The words come out bit by bit, as if he's never tried them in this particular combination before.  
  
Oikawa blinks. Back still turned to him, he responds: “You’re self-aware, at least.”  
  
He turns; Kageyama’s eyes flicker away from Oikawa, focusing on the ground. His grip on his staff is too tight, knuckles going white around the wood.   
  
_Perhaps painfully self-aware,_  Oikawa thinks.   
  
He nods to Kiyoko.   
  
This time, it’s impossible for Oikawa to ignore it: the pull he feels with every move Kageyama makes.  
  
He wants to be the best. Oikawa can see it etched in every feature, can sense it in the force behind every strike and swipe Kageyama throws at him. Oikawa knows that drive, knows it  _intimately._  
  
But he doesn’t  _listen._  With each round, Oikawa sees that the observations from Kageyama’s combat training were right; he’s not focused on seeking compatibility—just on winning, blows meant to strike and unbalance Oikawa, rather than pull him in.   
  
The third time he knocks Kageyama on his back (3-1), he leans on his staff so he looms over him.   
  
“This isn’t about being the fastest and the strongest, Tobio-chan,” he says, smiling. “You have to pay attention to the other person.”  
  
Iwaizumi’s words rest heavy on his tongue:  _You have to listen to your partner._  
  
He can’t get his mouth around that last word just yet, so he abstains.   
  
Oikawa looks up to meet Nekomata’s eyes, brows arched.   
  
Nekomata considers, then: “Keep going.”  
  
Oikawa nods, taking effort to quell his budding frustration.  
  
This time, Oikawa feels something different. There’s a different set to Kageyama’s expression; before, there’d been an almost  _hungry_  look, something one might see from a predator left with little options. Now, though, the intensity is focused through a different lens—something proving, something searching, and perhaps just a little calculating.  
  
Oikawa wonders if this is what it’s like to be facing himself—albeit a less practiced one.   
  
Just when he thinks he’s got the win, poised above Kageyama and about to drive his staff into his chest, Kageyama rolls away just quickly enough that Oikawa’s staff meets nothing but the mat beneath them. With a grip on his bo that’s slick with sweat, it takes only one kick from Kageyama to knock the staff from Oikawa’s hands.  
  
Unbalanced, it’s child’s play for Kageyama to finish Oikawa with a swipe to his legs, bringing him to his knees. Oikawa blinks up at Kageyama, with his staff hovering just to the left of his neck, trying not to let his displeasure shine through.  
  
“Three-two,” Kageyama says.  
  
The glimmer of light in his eyes is the closest Oikawa has seen him come to genuine satisfaction all day.  
  
“Enough,” Nekomata says.   
  
Oikawa stands as Kageyama starts to protest: “But—”  
  
Oikawa puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes—hard. He knows by now that when it comes to the marshal, there’s little use in protesting. “We’ll have plenty of time to even the score, Tobio-chan.” He meets Nekomata’s eyes. “Am I right?”  
  
Nekomata nods. “You’re correct.” He addresses them both: “Until such a time that Oikawa’s partner returns to active duty, the two of you will be copilots of the Grand King.” He levels his gaze at Kageyama. “You would do well to learn as much as you can. Dismissed.”  
  
Oikawa bows his head; Kageyama rushes to follow suit.  
  
Kageyama finds Oikawa after dinner, having waited for everyone to clear from the mess hall before approaching Oikawa at his now otherwise empty table.  
  
He opens with little preempt: “Why you?”   
  
Oikawa is going to have his work cut out for him.  
  
(In the back of his mind, he’s almost grateful to have such a distraction.)  
  
Oikawa keeps his face impassive. “Did no one tell you?”  
  
“Tell me what?”  
  
Oikawa tilts his head. “You’re an anomaly like me,” he says. “You can drift with anyone.” He pauses. “In theory, at least. You seem to have a great deal of trouble letting anyone in long enough for that to ever be possible.”  
  
Kageyama goes still. “Then why did they stick us together?”  
  
Oikawa smiles in a way he knows doesn’t quite hit his eyes.   
  
“I’m supposed to teach you, remember?” 

**Author's Note:**

> somewhere in me i have a 10k+ fic for this but that's for another day ~


End file.
